


Menace at the Old Manor

by Killthespare



Series: Investigations Inc. [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!, Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Scooby Doo Fusion, Cross Country Van Trips, Don't need to know scooby doo to read, Friendship, Gen, Halloween2020, Humor, Inspired by Scooby Doo, It's basically what happened if you piled five teens in a van and threw them into a whacky mystery, Leaning on cliches so hard they're basically a support structure, M/M, Mystery, Riding that line between parody and homage, Scooby Doo Style Mysteries & Hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killthespare/pseuds/Killthespare
Summary: Honestly--Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Suga really were just planning on a nice cross country camping trip. Which would be easier if not for a broken down van, a town in the middle of nowhere, a creepy old manor, and a supposed curse.Oh, and the ghost--can’t forget the ghost.-----A Haikyuu Scooby-Doo!AU with no knowledge of Scooby-Doo required.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Mostly a friendship fic - Relationship, Oikawa & Iwaizumi & Bokuto & Kuroo & Suga, pre-Oikawa/Iwaizumi
Series: Investigations Inc. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975321
Comments: 64
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys, welcome to this Haikyuu! Scooby Doo AU fic.

“Hinata,  _ where are you? _ ”

“Over here!”

An exasperated sigh. “Where?”

“Here!”

“Where’s h-- _ opff-- _ ” Kageyama rubbed his shoulder, squinting in the darkness to glare down at his partner. “It’s dark!”

“Yeah, I realized that,” Hinata mumbled, grabbing onto Kageyama’s sleeve to keep him close. “I didn’t think it would take so long just to trim some hedges.”

“Dummy.”

Hinata huffed. “Well, it doesn’t take this long at home! Maybe you just suck at trimming!”

“Maybe you suck,” Kageyama shot back automatically. “And, duh, it’s going to take longer! This place is a mansion, that’s like five times bigger than your house!”

Hinata cocked his head. “Huh, didn’t think of that.”

Kageyama glare darkened; but, all Hinata did was scoot a little bit closer until he was all but under Kageyama’s arm.

Kageyama tried to squirm away. “What’s up with you?”

“I don’t like the dark,” Hinata said. “It’s spooky. Especially all the way out here, without anyone around.” A pause and the grip on Kageyama’s shirt went a little bit tighter. “Hey, you don’t think the curse is real, right?”

Around them, even the low blue of dusk had faded, leaving behind the true pitch black of night. This far from town, the only light that made it through was the brief shine of stars through the clouds and the glow of the manor behind them.

“Of course not,” Kageyama said but his voice had gone lower. “Don’t be dumb, ghosts are….they’re stupid. It’s just an old house.”

“Oh,” Hinata said. “Right.”

He burrowed in closer and, this time, Kageyama didn’t stop him, tightening his own grip around his shoulders.

Hinata’s voice was muffled in his shirt. “We should probably go back and see if Kenma needs any more help, right?”

“....Yeah.” Kageyama reluctantly pulled away and started walking, grabbing the old hedge trimmers because it was probably bad to leave things like that outside.

He stopped when he noticed Hinata wasn’t helping him. He glanced up, only to find Hinata hadn’t moved. In fact, the other seemed rooted to the spot, staring out at the thick of the woods.

Kageyama walked over. “Hey, dumbass, don’t make me carry all this by myself.”

“Ka-Kageyama!” Hinata raised a trembling finger, pointing at the trees. 

“What?”

And, then, he froze.

From the woods, a looming skeletal figure stood in a matted cloak bathed in red.

It was staring at them.

Two screams echoed through the night and the trimmers laid forgotten.

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

“Come on, not again!” Iwaizumi whacked at Oikawa’s legs. “Feet off the dash!”

_ “Ow,”  _ Oikawa pouted. “Iwa-chan, so cruel! Dashboard as a leg rest is shotgun’s rights. Everyone knows that! This is tyranny!  _ Tyranny! _ ”

“Deal with it.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I don’t want your weird toes in my face while I’m driving.”

“What makes them  _ weird _ ,” Oikawa complained.

“Agreed, Iwaizumi’s a terrible oppressor,” Kuroo said from the back seat. “Hey, speaking about rights of the oppressed, when are we going to swap out so the rest of us get better leg room.”

“But, I’m navigating!” Oikawa held up his giant, overgrown map like a shield.

“And I don’t trust you driving ever since you asked if putting it in second gear made it swap to a second engine” Iwaizumi said bluntly to Kuroo.

Bokuto blinked. “It doesn’t?”

Iwaizumi sighed. “Plus, I’m the only one that can drive stick.”

“There’s more room in the back,” Suga offered. “If you don’t mind moving around all our stuff.”

“ _ Technically _ , it’s illegal to ride in the back of a van unless you have a seat belt,” Oikawa commented idly, most likely just to be annoying.

“ _ Practically _ , there’s no one around for miles so who’s going to stop me,” Kuroo said, gesturing to the large empty roads surrounded by nothing but trees and unkept fields. He turned back to Suga. “Thanks, though, I’d rather stick here and complain if it’s all the same.”

“I should’ve guessed,” Suga said, shaking his head. 

Privately, Iwaizumi thought it said something about his excruciatingly high tolerance of all of his friends that he didn’t even miss a beat as Bokuto--apparently done with quietly fidgeting--decided to hang halfway across the front seat divider to fiddle with the radio.

“Aww, why is it nothing but static,” Bokuto said.

“Because Oikawa’s leading us to  _ the middle of nowhere _ ,” Iwaizumi said.

“This camping road trip isn’t secretly your plan to murder us all, right?” Kuroo poked at the back of Oikawa’s neck until he swatted his hand away. “Because Bo and I were swayed by the notion of friendship and the best of cross country dining and I, for one, will be very put out if I instead become a meal for your sudden and inexplicable cannibal urges.”

Oikawa turned up his nose. “Please, you all know I have better taste than that. The only one of you I’d even  _ consider  _ eating is Suga.”

Suga smiled. “I’m touched.”

Oikawa blew him a kiss.

The engine coughed before revving loudly.

“.....where did you say you found this van again,” Iwaizumi asked.

“Oh, you know….places,” Oikawa answered vaguely, “the point is it was very, very cheap and very roomy. Perfect for a last summer road trip! So, you’re all welcome!”

“If we ever make it to the campgrounds,” Kuroo remarked.

“How far is it,” Bokuto asked, leaning across Kuroo and over the seat to squint at Oikawa’s giant map.

“Um,” Oikawa answered. “It’s….just a little….”

“You know I could just use my phone,” Suga said.

“No, no phones. Finding it on here is half the fun,” Oikawa said. “Look, see, it’s just a couple more hours.”

“That’ll be night,” Iwaizumi said.

Bokuto’s stomach growled.

“Well, maybe we can stop for food before we get there,” Oikawa relented. “Here, take that road, I’ll find something.” 

Iwaizumi complied while Oikawa quickly buried himself in the map.

“It’s forking off, right or left,” Iwaizumi asked.

“Left,” Oikawa said decisively.

Iwaizumi blinked, staring as the two roads came closer into view. “Left? Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Oikawa didn’t look up from the map. “Why?”

On the right was a well-paved road leading to clear open fields with signs, trailing freely off into the warm summer sun.

The left was covered entirely in arches of old trees--crooked limbs hanging over the road and blocking out the light so thoroughly that it looked like the black itself was trapping in the cracks that lined muddy pavement. Somewhere, in the distance, there was a shriek that was quite possibly bats.

“Um,” Suga said.

Bokuto inched down and covered his eyes. __

“Seriously,” Kuroo asked.

“Left, definitely left,” Oikawa insisted, still not looking up. “Just trust me! I got the map, right?”

Iwaizumi went left.

They went a few more minutes before Oikawa finally glanced up, blinking at the sudden shadows. “Shit, maybe it was right.”

“I hate you,” Kuroo said flatly.

“I’m turning around,” Iwaizumi said.

He jerked the wheel to turn just as the engine spluttered again before letting out a wheeze. The lights went off with a click just as the car dropped down and died.

“Crap,” Iwaizumi muttered, turning the key again only to hear more wheezing. “Oikawa, this van  _ sucks _ !”

“No, come on, it’s just…,” Oikawa waved a hand. “You can fix it, yeah, Iwa-chan? You can fix  _ anything _ !”

Iwaizumi gave him a  _ look _ even as he climbed out to get the service kit from the back and popped the hood.

“I’m looking up directions,” Suga said, already pulling out his phone.

“But….but,  _ map _ !” Oikawa held it up even as it drooped around him.

“Great,” Kuroo said, “we can use it for shelter when we’re stuck out here and have to take up foraging.”

Bokuto brightened. “Ooh, I’ve got a pocket knife!”

“Yay, we’ll need it to fight off the wolves,” Kuroo said.

“I don’t think it’s that dire,” Suga said, showing them the screen. “There’s a town pretty close by. Can’t find a taxi or a towing service, though. We may have to walk if Iwaizumi can’t fix it. It’s about an hour.”

Kuroo shrugged. “Honestly, Iwaizumi can probably fix it. He’s like the machine whisperer or something.”

“Iwaizumi  _ cannot _ fix it,” Iwaizumi said from right beside the passenger window and Oikawa jumped. “The transmission’s out.”

“Then, put it back in,” Bokuto suggested.

Iwaizumi stared. “I’m seriously having all of you read a car manual one of these days. It’s broken; we’ll need to go to town for the replacements,  _ if  _ they have anything for something this old. Thing’s from like the late 60s or something.”

Oikawa swallowed, eyes filing with dread. “So, does that mean….”

“Good news, we’re  _ really  _ going to get to explore nature.” Iwaizumi held open the door. “We’re walking.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

Oikawa feebly lifted his head. “.....water…. _ please,  _ I beg of you. I think I’m  _ dying… _ .um, could I also get a couple slices of pizza, too, please.”

The diner waitress looked concerned.

“It was barely an hour and a half. You don’t hear Bo complaining, do you?” Kuroo rolled his eyes at Oikawa before turning to the waitress. “And, ah, a second water. Ooh, and a burger, actually maybe two.”

She nodded, already looking bored as she took in all of them with the kind of rapid adjustment indicative of long hours in customer service.

“An hour through the mud and woods,” Oikawa complained. “My jeans are ruined, probably the shirt, too. That’s a traumatic experience, this pizza is my comfort pizza.”

The waitress lifted a brow.

“Car broke down,” Suga explained. “Also, water, please.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “I wondered if you were here for the festival.”

“Hey, hey, there’s a festival,” Bokuto asked, head shooting up.

The woman finally smiled. “The tomato festival’s this week, our town’s known for it. Always tons of tourists every year. Good tips.” She added the last part pointedly.

“Tomatoes?” Kuroo mouthed at Oikawa, who shrugged while the waitress finished taking their orders.

“You know,” she tapped her pen against the pad, “there’s a pretty good auto shop down the block.”

Suga smiled. “Our friend’s there now.”

She shrugged, heading off to the kitchen.

Kuroo waited until they got their food before turning back to the table. “Okay, I’m curious. What does an entire festival for tomatoes even look like?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Suga sighed. “I don’t think the van’s getting better anytime soon.”

“....yeah,” Bokuto said glumly, laying his face down on the diner table.

Kuroo patted his back. “Least we made it a full day.”

Oikawa took one long look at how all of his friends seemed to be sinking further into their booth.

“What are you talking about? Trip’s not over!” He said. “This is just a setback.”

“The van’s broken,” Kuroo said. “Hard to do cross country camping without a car.”

“So, we’ll just get it fixed,” Oikawa said decisively.

“That sounds pretty expensive,” Suga pointed out. “Even with everything we saved, we’re barely going to have enough for a hotel and food for a few days. Not to mention bus tickets back.”

Bokuto made a small, pathetic sound while drawing sad faces with his fry. “Aw man, this really sucks. Think we can at least stay long enough for the festival?”

“No way!” Oikawa stood up, slamming a hand flat on the table.

“....we...we can’t stay?” Bokuto blinked up.

“Nope, because we’ve got a road trip to go on! And we’re not stopping it here!” Oikawa stared down at his friends. “Think about it! What is this trip about? Is it  _ really  _ just about cramming in a van and sleeping out in the great untamed wilderness?  _ No.  _ Nay, I say! Why did you really sign up--”

“Camping!” Bokuto nodded.

“The  _ freedom!”  _ Oikawa emphasized. “That’s what this trip is really about!  _ Freedom!  _ The last summer of true exploration before Suga and I start college, Iwa-chan tries to get a job, and Kuroo and Bokuto do…..whatever it is you’re doing--”

“It’s a gap year,” Kuroo complained.

“Exactly,” Oikawa was triumphant, “Now, do I know what we’re going to do next? Maybe not. Do I know how we can fix the car? Also no. But, what I do know is that this trip is about an enduring bond of friendship, forged in the fires of years past, that cannot be broken by mere  _ car trouble!  _ So, who’s with me?”

Bokuto immediately cheered.

“Fine,” Kuroo pulled him back into the booth, “just please sit down, people are staring.”

Oikawa stuck out his tongue before he grinned. “See, there’s Iwa-chan! Things are looking up, I can feel it!”

“I got a quote on the transmission.” Iwa-chan handed over a slip of paper, sliding into the booth and immediately stealing Kuroo’s onion rings.

“Nice,” Oikawa looked down at the paper, “and, hey, you got the mechanic’s phone number, too. This his extension?”

“No,” Iwaizumi said bluntly. “It’s not.”

Oikawa blinked before looking down at the paper again.

_ “WAIT??!!!?”  _ Oikawa’s head hit the table. “Iwa-chan, this is  _ the price _ ! Why is it so expensive? The car’s supposed to be old!”

Iwaizumi gave a half shrug. “Old cars mean rare. The guy said he’d call around for the local scrap yards and order it if he finds something. But, still, those things get pricey.”

Oikawa let out a moan as Suga gently tugged the paper out of his hands before looking at it and wincing.

“Good part is the guy told me he had a few buyers if we want to sell it for parts,” Iwaizumi said. 

“We can’t  _ sell  _ it,” Oikawa’s head shot up. “That thing’s my baby! It’s  _ our baby! _ ”

“You’ve had it less than two weeks.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. 

“That’s all love can take,” Oikawa whined back. “We can find something to do. I know it!”

“Maybe start with finding someplace to stay for the night,” Suga said, looking up as the waitress came over with a new glass for Iwaizumi. “Are there any hotels open?”

She frowned. “I heard the main one’s sold out already for the festival.” She glanced around, lowering her voice. “There’s the Founder’s Inn, but--”

“No!” There was a screech of metal chair on linoleum and a spindly old man marched up to the table and glared. “Are you trying to get them  _ killed _ ? That place is  _ cursed _ ! Do you understand?!  _ Cursed _ \--”

“C-cursed,” Bokuto asked.

“Cursed,” the old man insisted, “legend has it that the very founder of this town died in that old mansion and--with his last dying breath--he swore that only one of his bloodline could ever live on the property or, if not, he’d destroy not only anyone who dared set foot there but also the entire town in a storm of _ fiery, undying rage!” _

The table paused.

“So, you’re saying it’s cheap then,” Oikawa asked.

The old man gaped. “His ghost has already been seen! All who stay there are doomed for all eternity!”

“So  _ really  _ cheap,” Kuroo pressed.

Both the waitress and man stared at them.

Suga coughed. “Could we possibly get directions?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-----

“There are  _ no-- _ ” Oikawa pulled, “--such things--,” a huff, “--as  _ ghosts _ !”

Bokuto whimpered, barely letting himself be dragged by both Oikawa and Iwaizumi as they pulled him up the old dirt road to the towering manor tucked between the woods.

“Or,” Kuroo butted in cheerfully, “there  _ are  _ such a thing as ghosts and we’ll be the first ones to get proof, thus cementing our names forever as legends of paranormal investigation!” He shrugged. “You know or die--one or the other!”

“Not helping,” Iwaizumi muttered as Bokuto all but fell back, nearly taking Oikawa off his feet.

“Or it’s the only place cheap enough we can afford,” Suga said.

“But, what if it really is cursed,” Bokuto whined. “Ghosts are supposed to be terrifying! What if it like melts our eyes? Or,  _ worse _ , what if it eats our brains or something!”

“Doubt there’ll be much difference,” Iwaizumi said.

“Hey,” Oikawa tried for soothing, “this is my plan. Would one of  _ my plans  _ really be that bad?”

“YES!” Bokuto nodded fervently.

“We’re trying to encourage him, remember,” Kuroo said as they finally made it to the front steps, Bokuto still protesting every centimetre.

“Wow, okay,” Oikawa sniffed, “ _ next time  _ I plan an amazing cross country vacation, you can ride on the van roof.”

Suga rolled his eyes and looked at Bokuto. “Think about it like this, there has never been a widely proven ghost sighting in the entire history of research. Statistically, the odds are very,  _ very  _ low we’ll be the first.”

Bokuto blinked. “Really?”

“Basic probability.” Suga smiled.

Bokuto let out a breath, steeling himself. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Kuroo opened the front door.

Then, he took one step and froze, the rest of the group slamming into his back and almost knocking him over.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered, eyes wide.

“What?” Bokuto ducked around. “Is it the ghost?”

Kuroo shook his head, lips turning up in a smirk. “No, the front desk guy’s  _ really  _ cute.”

“Are you kidding me,” Oikawa sputtered.

“I got this.” Kuroo waved them off, swaggering up to the front desk.

He leaned over the side, where the sole worker was bent over and staring intently at a laptop.

“Hey,” he said, tone dropping low, “heard this place was haunted; but, wasn’t expecting an actual angel.”

“Oh fuck,” Iwaizumi facepalmed. “We’re going to end up sleeping in the broken van, aren’t we?”

The front desk worker--a petite man with dark, half dyed hair pulled up in a messy bun--looked up and gave him such an utterly dry expression that the rest were mildly impressed that Kuroo didn’t scatter away into dust right there.

“Can I help you,” he said, voice bored and quiet.

“Um,” Kuroo was already blushing red, “only in my dreams and--”

Oikawa pushed forward. “Ignore him,” his eyes ducked down to the name tag, “Kenma, is this the inn that’s supposed to be cursed?”

Kenma frowned. “There’s no such thing as curses. Why? Are you supposed to be ghost hunters?”

“Absolutely not,” Oikawa said vehemently, “we’re opportunists! Supposed curses gotta be bad for business, right? Well, lucky for all of us, we don’t care if you got like Casper and the Headless Horseman staying here. We need rooms!”

Kenma was staring at them like they were some kind of inordinately strange animals that had suddenly stumbled into his lobby.

….the assessment wasn't exactly  _ wrong. _

Suga stepped in. “What they’re trying to say is we need a room and are kind of low on funds at the moment since our van broke down. We were wondering what your rates are with the festival going on?”

“We can help out around here, too,” Iwaizumi added, glancing around at the way that the paint seemed to be starting to peel off the wall and a few of the wood carving looked in serious need of touching up.

Bokuto gave his best smile, clasping his hands in front of him. “Please?”

Kenma looked around at all of them, expression blank and entirely unreadable. The group held their breath, waiting on a tightly strung wire.

Then, Kenma sighed and the tension eased. “We don’t have any guests right now with the curse. If you’re willing to help with repairs, I can cut the price in half.”

“Thank you,” Suga said sincerely.

Iwaizumi frowned. “Do you need to check with the owner?”

“I am the owner,” Kenma said, drawing even more looks since the guy looked  _ barely  _ old enough to be out of high school. Kenma didn’t bother expounding. “How many rooms?”

They shared a look, silently thinking of their shrinking wallet.

“The van got towed back to town, right? We can grab the sleeping bags,” Oikawa suggested.

Iwaizumi nodded. “Just one room, then.”

Kenma sent a glance at Bokuto’s leg, where the padding was still visible under the shorts. “Is upstairs fine?”

“Huh?” Bokuto grinned, patting the fabric brace. “Yeah, just knee surgery a few months ago. It’s fine for the most part.” His smile grew. “Thanks, though!”

Kenma nodded, typing it into the computer.

“If you need something from town, Shoyou might be able to take you,” he said. “He’s working the festival tonight.”

Suga tilted his head. “Who’s Shoyou?”

“KENMA!” A streak of orange flung itself into the lobby, only to dissolve itself into a teenage boy leaning over the front desk. “Kageyama messed up the bushes! Not me, alright?”

“Did not!” A taller teen with an impressive glower ran in behind him. “Who said they didn’t need so much on the side, huh?”

“I didn’t say  _ that  _ much!”

Kenma sighed again, looking long wearied. “This is Shoyou.” He waved a hand towards the other. “And Kageyama. They’re the temporary groundskeepers.”

“The  _ best  _ groundskeepers! Hey, who are--” Hinata’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh, Kenma! Are they guests? We never have  _ guests _ ?! Is it for the festival! Do they know about the curse?” A beat. “Actually, you probably shouldn’t say anything about the curse, you know because--”

“Dumbass, quit talking about the curse,” Kageyama shouted.

Hinata whirled around. “Now,  _ you’re  _ talking about it, Dummy!”

Suga held up his hands trying to calm both. “We’ve heard about the curse. It’s fine, we promise.”

“We don’t believe in curses.” Oikawa said, tilting up his head.

“Oh.”

Hinata and Kageyama exchanged a look.

“Um,” Hinata started hesitantly, “are you  _ sure _ ?”

“We’ll be fine,” Kuroo said to both of them, ignoring the fact that Bokuto had started nervously inching behind Iwaizumi again.

“Oh, right,” Hinata paused, “it’s just because  _ we  _ didn’t believe in the curse either before--”

“Hinata,  _ shut up, _ ” Kageyama hissed. “They’re guests!”

Iwaizumi frowned. “Before what?”

Kageyama and Hinata both winced before silently looking back to Kenma for permission.

Kenma rolled his eyes, already looking back to his computer. “Go on, I don’t really care.”

“Before we saw the Founder’s Ghost,” Kageyama said bluntly.

“Wait,  _ what _ ,” Bokuto blurted out.

Hinata nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it was a few weeks. It was  _ horrible,  _ we were out working on the hedges and then it was just there in the woods--with a hood and all red and--,” he shivered, “terrifying, it chased us all the way back to the manor. We didn’t think it was going to stop.”

“It actually  _ chased  _ you,” Iwaizumi asked incredulously.

“Yep.” Hinata nodded. “A lot of people have seen it now. Apparently, it started appearing around town after that. It’s really,  _ super _ scary!”

Kageyama elbowed him.

“But, um, not  _ too _ scary to stay here, yeah?” Hinata said brightly. “Someone will probably figure something out for the reward, too! So, no worries!”

They all stopped. 

“What reward,” Kuroo pressed.

“Uh,” Kageyama frowned, “the mayor offered a reward if anyone can find anything about it.”

“A  _ big _ reward!” Hinata spread his arms. “See, so, it’ll be fine!”

‘Fine’ was really not what they had their minds on right now.

Oikawa met Kuroo’s eyes before grinning. “Tell us everything!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

Iwaizumi sighed. “And the ghost--he’s actually real?”

_ “Of course he’s real!” _

_ “I saw him!” _

_ “Absolutely real!” _

\-------

Suga nodded politely. “And he looked like?”

_ “Big glowing red eyes.” _

_ “There was a cloak, definitely a cloak!” _

_ “Huge teeth! Fangs, probably!” _

\------

Bokuto swallowed. “That’s so scary!”

_ “He killed my plants!” _

_ “Definitely--he stole my dog!” _

_ “Gave me this rash! Want a picture?” _

\-----

Oikawa drew back. “Um, sounds terrible. Where was this again?”

_ “At the park!” _

_ “The forest! It’s because of that manor, you know?” _

_ “Outside my window! He’s probably been here for years! _

\-----

“Great!” Kuroo readied his pen. “What else can you tell us?”

_ The old librarian shuddered. “He’s so tall! Looked the same as a skeleton!” _

_ “Eh,” the farmer frowned, “bit of a short guy. Guys were shorter back then, ya know?” _

_ “Huge!” The gas station worker spread his arms. “Like a mountain!” _

_ \------- _

“Great, so from interviewing everyone that supposedly saw it, we’re picturing a tall-short guy that looks like a mountain and is built like a skeleton.” Oikawa plopped down on the wooden bench. “Think you can work with that?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Kuroo spun his pen, sorting through the notes and pulling out his laptop, “I’m thinking size-changing transforming monster. How does that sound?”

“Impossible by all standards of physics,” Suga deadpanned.

Kuroo tsked. “Well that’s no fun at all, where’s your imagination, Sugawara?”

Around them, the festival was just starting to fill up, the streets quickly filling with vendor stands and even an actual band.

“Wait?” Bokuto looked between them. “So, the ghost can actually change shapes?”

“No, there’s no such thing as ghosts,” Iwaizumi said. “They imagined it.”

Bokuto blinked. “But, if the ghost’s not real, then how are we going to get the reward?”

“Because  _ they _ believe there’s a ghost,” Oikawa said. “And, hey, it’s not like you can prove something doesn’t exist, right? All we gotta do is compile a few interviews, dig up some research, and get Kuroo here to spin it up into something nice and spooky that can be put in a paper! Boom, information on a ghost.” Oikawa looked pretty pleased with himself. “Sure, it’s probably not enough for the  _ full  _ reward. But, if we sell it right, hopefully we can get enough for the transmission.”

Bokuto frowned. “That sound….kinda fake.”

“All of the curse stuff is fake.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “It’s just a town legend, people like those. It’s not like we’re doing any harm by putting everything together and writing it down.”

“Modern historians, actually.” Oikawa turned his nose up and grinned. “And enough to get us decidedly out of _Ghost Town, Mt. Nowhere_ over here and onto a much more exciting camping trip.”

“Oh, I don’t know, there’s some parts of this town I kinda like,” Kuroo said, leaning around Bokuto and grinning when he saw Kenma walking with Hinata and Kageyama.

Iwaizumi pointed at him. “I swear if you get us kicked out of the one inn we can  _ barely  _ afford, you’re going to find out a lot more about the afterlife.  _ Personally _ .”

“Relax.” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “I get it. Last time wasn’t my best work, one more time for reals and then I’ll drop it if he’s not interested, okay?”

Oikawa moaned, leaning over to Suga. “Great as if the van, the ghost, and somehow getting the reward wasn’t enough to do.”

“Hey, I’ve got game,” Kuroo protested.

Suga leaned back to Oikawa. “Who even says ‘game’ anymore?”

“A tragedy,” Oikawa agreed.

Kuroo turned up his nose “Geeze, jealousy is so bitter nowadays. Right, so I have to go woo the guy who’s probably the love of my life--”

“Who you met two hours ago,” Iwaizumi pointed out.

“--and I’m sure the rest of you have to do something somewhat less important,” Kuroo stood as he continued. “And since the library’s closed until the morning, so we can’t do any research there, the only other thing to do is ask around randomly which means there’s  _ one option  _ we can take. ”

“What,” Bokuto leaned in.

“Gang,” Kuroo clapped his hands together. “Let’s split up and search for clues!”

Iwaizumi glared. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“And yet, I’m already gone,” Kuroo waved even as he started jogging away, “Good luck with whatever!”

Suga shook his head, watching him go. “Well, I guess we know how he’s ‘searching for clues’. Any other plans for the festival?”

“Food stands!” Bokuto piped in immediately. “Festival food’s the best!”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Food sounds alright. I’ll go with Bokuto.”

Suga looked at Oikawa. “You and me?”

“See the band,” Oikawa suggested.

“Sure,” Suga turned to the rest. “Meet back here in a few hours?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi frowned. “Not like we’re going to find much at a festival anyway.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

Kenma had just waved off Kageyama and Hinata to….some kind of tomato themed food eating contest they were doing--Kenma honestly was a bit scared to know the details--when he found himself not exactly alone.

“So,” Kuroo came into step beside him, “I think I came off a little strong, mind if I try again?”

Kenma raised a brow; but, didn’t actually protest the other teen’s company.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsuro,” he gave a small wave, “recent high school graduate, writer, excellent conversationalist, and hopefully an all around swell kind of guy. And you are?”

Kenma looked up at him. “You already know my name.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same as an introduction,” Kuroo said. “Come on, how’s a guy that looks younger than me end up running an inn? That’s gotta be pretty impressive, right?”

“It’s really not that much of a story,” Kenma said. “I’ve worked there for years. When the old owner died, I took it over.”

Kuroo winked. “Still, running your own business. That’s cool!”

Kenma grimaced before he could help it.

“.....or would be cooler if not for supposed curses, I guess,” Kuroo said. “Bet that’s tough on business.”

“Curses aren’t real,” Kenma said.

“Um, right. So, I guess things will get better once everyone else realizes that, too….”

Kuroo trailed off awkwardly and there was a long lull in the conversation--the type that Kenma was fairly used to but Kuroo fidgeted uncomfortably, looking like he was about to offer to leave him alone.

“Writer?” Kenma asked.

“What?” Kuroo grinned. “Oh, yeah--well, I mean hopefully a writer one day. I want to write books.”

“Not horror, I hope,” Kenma said.

Kuroo laughed. “I was thinking mystery, maybe. Or maybe historical fiction, I like the research.”

“I think I’ve had enough of town history,” Kenma admitted.

“I bet.” Kuroo smiled. “Not that I’m doing much of anything, right now. Decided to take a gap year.”

Kenma tilted his head in a silent question.

“Don’t want to be a writer without seeing anything.” Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know, Oikawa wanted to take a trip and I wasn’t really doing much, so, I figured I might as well have some fun.” The smile went wry. “Didn’t  _ quite  _ expect this, though.”

He looked down to Kenma. “What about you? You ever just want to get in a car and drive away with your friends?”

Kenma frowned. “No.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I like it here.”

Kuroo grinned out at the town, starting to be lit with a soft glow from the festival lights. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty nice.”

Then, he paused, letting out a snort. “Also, no offense at all, but your friends don’t exactly seem like the type for enclosed spaces.”

Kenma glanced up, eyes quickly processing the images--Hinata, Kageyama, the food eating contest, and what looked like untold levels of tomato related horror--before he quickly looked away to save his sanity.

Kenma bit down on another smile. “They aren’t.”

“How’d you meet?”

Kenma shrugged. “High school volleyball team.”

“Really, volleyball? Never played,” Kuroo said. “Was more of a lit club nerd. Is it fun?”

“Tiring,” Kenma answered. “....and sometimes fun. They’re planning on going pro.”

“Pro athletes, huh?” Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, that was Bokuto’s plan, too.”

“What happened?”

“Torn ACL and knee surgery. Senior year, too.” Kuroo sighed. “It’s fine, he’s mostly cool about it. He kinda….is good about bouncing back; just wanted to take a year to figure out a new plan. So, I guess he’s stuck with me, then.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Kenma mumbled before he could help himself.

Kuroo positively beamed. 

“What about the rest of your friends,” Kenma asked quickly.

“Oh,” Kuroo waved a hand, “Oikawa’s planning to go pre-law, Suga’s bio-chem, and Iwaizumi’s probably going to go work in a mechanic shop and do way too complex things with cars that I don’t even wanna understand. Honestly, I can’t tell if they’re geniuses or all just secretly way too competitive about having complicated jobs.”

“Sounds like you like them a lot.”

Kuroo smiled. “They’re alright,  _ I guess.  _ I mean if I really  _ had  _ to admit it, under the pain of torture, I’d say they’re kind of cool friends.” He winked. “I’m the coolest, of course.”

“Of course,” Kenma said.

“So,” Kuroo pulled to a stop in front of him, “I’m only here for a bit and--I gotta be honest here--I think you’re really cute and really, really interesting. What do you say? Show an out-of-towner around, um, town?”

Kenma stared at him.

Kuroo held up his hands in surrender. “Or I’ll get out of your hair and leave you to your festival. Your choice. But, hey, festivals are a lot more fun with company, right? And I’ve been told I’m  _ excellent  _ company.”

Kenma rolled his eyes; but, finally didn’t bother hiding the small smile.

He grabbed Kuroo’s hand and spoke quietly. “Come on, fresh funnel cakes always sell out fast.”

Kuroo grinned.

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

“Oh my gosh,” Bokuto moaned through stuffed cheeks, “this funnel cake is literally the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth! I can’t believe these were the last ones.”

“Please don’t choke,” Iwaizumi all but begged, already wincing at the weird looks they were getting as Bokuto moaned  _ indecently _ around the fried bread. “....or do that, actually.”

Bokuto, of course, continued doing that because Iwaizumi’s friends were all gremlins bent on causing him pain. 

“I’m literally begging you.”

“ _ Hajime _ ,” Bokuto breathed out, “you’ve got to try this! Seriously, how have you not tried this?”

Leveling him a glare, Iwaizumi did in fact grab a piece and try it.

_ Oh. _

“Dang,” Iwaizumi said, “this actually is pretty good.”

_ “Pretty good?” _ Bokuto shook his head. “Any dough that is not immediately deep fried and dipped in powdered sugar is now an insult to its name.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Alright, it’s not  _ that  _ good.” He glanced around at the festival. “You know we heard that this festival thing was supposed to be good for tourists; but, I really didn’t expect there to be this many people here. The place is packed.”

“Yeah?” Bokuto tilted his head. “Hey, what do you think those guys are doing?”

Iwaizumi glanced where Bokuto was looking, only to see a couple of people in bright green vests, walking around with what looked like a metal detector.

“No idea.” Iwaizumi frowned. “Everywhere around is paved road or concrete, what do you need a metal detector for?”

“Let’s go ask,” Bokuto said excitedly, already pulling him up.

“Why?”

“It could be a  _ clue _ !” Bokuto grinned. “We’re supposed to look for clues, right?”

“I think Kuroo just said that so he could go flirt.”

“Clue!” And then, Bokuto was gone and dragging a reluctant Iwaizumi along with him.

“Hi!” Bokuto blinked down at their weird possibly metal detector. “What’s that?”

The two people, one with the detector and the other with a camcorder strapped to their shoulder, stared back blankly and Iwaizumi sighed.

“We were just curious why you’d want to use a metal detector out here in the middle of the town square,” Iwaizumi asked, trying to project the image of a sane, rational human being even if he was sure it would fail in less than a minute….two if he was lucky.

“This isn’t a metal detector,” not-detector guy said, sounding offended. “It’s an EMP emitter!”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi said slowly, trying to figure out how to ask the next question tactfully.

Bokuto didn’t bother with tact. “What’s an AMP emitter? For the band?”

_ “EMP _ ,” camcorder dude broke in snootily, “it attracts ghosts! We’re professional ghost hunters,  _ obviously _ .”

Oh. Okay, good, Iwaizumi didn’t have to bother about sounding weird, then. They had it covered.

“Why would you want to  _ attract  _ ghosts,” Bokuto shouted. “They’re scary!”

“Maybe for those who aren’t brave enough.” Camcorder dude scoffed, looking down his nose at Bokuto and...oh, Iwaizumi abruptly decided he didn’t like either of these guys.

EMP guy smirked. “If you’re scared of ghosts, better get out of this town quick then. It’s supposed to be a hot spot.”

Camcorder dude nodded. “Tons of us professionals are already here.”

“But,  _ we’re  _ the only ones that are going to actually catch video,” EMP guy finished. “And get the reward.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Iwaizumi said blandly, grabbing Bokuto’s wrist and pulling him away as far as he could get from that conversation.

“Who would  _ look  _ for ghosts,” Bokuto whispered before his eyes grew, “especially when there’s funnel cakes! Who chooses  _ ghosts _ over _ funnel cakes _ , Iwaizumi!”

“Doesn’t matter, ghosts aren’t real so it’s not like they’re going to find anything.” Iwaizumi sighed. “The bad part is I think this whole reward thing just got a lot more competition.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

“Well,” Oikawa nodded along to where the band, some local group was playing, “they’re  _ decent,  _ I guess. It’s not like they’re--”

“Don’t say it,” Suga ordered, “don’t you dare say it.”

“It’s not like they’re the Hex Boys,” Oikawa finished smugly.

Suga elbowed him with his viciously sharp elbows. “Quit trying to make the Hex Boys a thing. You saw them  _ once _ ! Once!”

Oikawa skipped out of range of the murder elbows. “And maybe if all of my  _ supposed  _ friends didn’t  _ cruelly abandon me  _ for that one night, you’d know how amazing they were to!”

“Gotta let that go.” Suga rolled his eyes fondly. “I had test prep, you jerk!”

“Which you definitely could have done at a concert! I don’t see the problem!”

Suga snorted. 

“Come on,” Oikawa walked backwards, grabbing Suga’s wrist to pull him along. “Bokuto keeps texting me about these funnel cakes and, now, I’m starving.”

“So much for splitting up,” Suga teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa gestured widely at the festival, “look a clue! My instincts are telling me that no ghosts or curses are here tonight so we should definitely go have fun stuffing ourselves with tomato themed food!”

Suga smiled. “It is a neat festival.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Oikawa shrugged before smirking. “Would be better if the band was--”

Suga started whacking at his arms and Oikawa laughed as he batted the hands away. “Better if the band was--”

Suga stopped. “Oikaw--”

“Oof!” 

And, then, Oikawa walked smack into someone, stumbling back to be caught by Suga.

“Sorry,” Suga said, “didn’t see you.”

A massive mountain of a man glared down at them, light brown uniform and badge indicating the town sheriff. “Should take better care where you’re going, kids.”

“Will do,” Oikawa said, trying to pull up his best smiles as the glare got worse.

“Hmph.” The sheriff crossed his arms. “Don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“Um, we’re not,” Suga said. 

“Sheriff Ikeda, stop trying to scare away our tourists.” A stout man with large round glasses stopped beside them, giving Suga and Oikawa a genial smile. “You boys here for the festival?”

“Kinda,” Oikawa shrugged, “our van broke down, thought the festival would be as good a place as any to spend some time.”

“It’s a nice town,” Suga added politely.

The stout man beamed. “And an interesting one, too, I can promise!”

Sheriff Ikeda glowered. “Yamashita.”

“I’m the town’s bank manager, been here my whole life.” The stout man, Yamashita, winked. “And, trust me, have I heard some stories.”

Suga and Oikawa exchanged a look.

Oikawa’s grin widened. “Yeah? Not about the Founder’s Ghost by any chance?”

The sheriff narrowed his eyes.

“Oh!” Yamashita sounded delighted. “You’ve already heard about our ghost problem, then? Scary stuff, isn’t it?”

“We’re actually staying at the manor,” Suga said.

“Are you?” Yamashita’s smile dimmed, “well, that’s….,” he hesitated, “that’s  _ certainly  _ brave of you, then. You’re not with the other ghost hunters, are you?”

“The--,” Oikawa blinked, “there’s ghost hunters? What, you mean  _ for the reward? _ ”

“The reward,” Sheriff Ikeda grumbled. “Got too many of them here already. Whole town’s filling up with tourists and only a matter of time before they start causing trouble.” He stared down at both of them. “You kids know what’s good for you, you’ll stay  _ away _ from any of those ghost stories and get your van fixed so you can get on out of here.”

Yamashita sighed. “Sheriff…”

“We’ll….we’ll start working on that then.” Suga grabbed Oikawa’s arm and steered him away. “Nice to meet you!”

Once they were far enough, Oikawa leaned over. “But,  _ was it  _ that nice to meet them? I’m unconvinced.”

“Least we know not to ask the sheriff,” Suga said. “And that we got competition.”

They both idly went back over to the stage, where the band was taking a break to check on their equipment, radio pop songs playing in the meantime.

Oikawa huffed. “Honestly, it’s not like anyone’s going to actually  _ find  _ a ghost. We might as well just--”

The stage lights shut off, a static hiss echoing through the speakers.

Oikawa winced, covering his ears. “If this is a band stunt, they suck.”

The string bulbs around the festival started flickering.

“Power outage,” Suga asked.

Oikawa shrugged. “Must be.”

And, then, all lights went out completely, plunging the entire festival into darkness and anxious voices.

In the absence, it felt cold.

Suga frowned, lighting up his phone. “This….this doesn’t feel like--”

A high pitched scream broke out across the crowd, followed by another and then more, the sound of people running and pushing towards the exit.

Oikawa and Suga both looked up. 

Swooping over the crowd was a cloaked figure with a gaunt face, pulled down in a scream and glowing red.

“Oikawa,” Suga hissed.

Oikawa nodded.  _ “Run!” _

They ran, nearly tripping in the dark and through the crowd as the speakers continued to hiss around them.

The lights came back up, blinking on and off like their fuses had blown.

Suga pulled at Oikawa’s arm and Oikawa risked a glance behind them.

The ghost--the actual, freaking  _ ghost!-- _ was still flying over the stage, reaching out large spidery hands.

This was pointless. The crowd was still sucking them in and scrambling away in the dark and fumbling, in just as much danger of running over each other.

People were going to get killed and a ghost was going to have nothing to do with it.

Suga was staring back at him, eyes wide to say he’d already realized that. “The lights, someone needs to reset the lights!”

“Well, I think everyone’s a bit  _ preoccupied  _ currently!” Oikawa yelled back.

Suga was pale. “The power breaker should be around the stage.”

“What? You mean where the big, angry  _ ghost  _ is!”

The screaming around them hadn’t gotten any better and Oikawa saw a kid falling, barely pulled up by his mother in a dash to get away.

“I hate you,” Oikawa said flatly.

“Come on!” And Suga was pulling him towards the stage, fighting against the current of the crowds until it all but thinned around them.

Suga raced to the power box. “Hold up your phone, I need light.”

“Got it!” Oikawa held up the phone, shaking slightly as he checked around his back for red eyes. 

“They’re not blown!” Suga sounded relieved. “I think I can rewire it.”

“Then, hurry,” Oikawa said, bending down as Suga shoved his hand down into the mess of wires and chords.

Oikawa looked back. He stopped. “Suga.”

“Now!” Suga flipped the switch and the stage lights suddenly flooded back on, festival bulbs blinking back.

“That’s great,” Oikawa whispered, “but I think we have bigger problems.”

Red eyes stood eerily out from a sunken face.

The ghost was staring at them.

“Suga,  _ run!”  _ Oikawa pulled him up and behind the stage, Oikawa barely a second behind. 

Behind the stage was abandoned equipment and empty fields, closed in a crop of trees on one side and an old barn in the other.

A loud hiss--some inhuman noise between a scream and a moan--broke out from behind them, causing Suga to stumble. 

“My phone!”

The field dropped back into darkness, the only light from the festival behind them.

“Keep running! The trees lead back to town, get help,” Oikawa pointed Suga to the right towards the trees. “I’ll take the barn! He can’t follow us both!  _ Go!”  _

Oikawa pushed Suga to the trees before he could argue, Oikawa taking a sprint to the barn.

Ghosts couldn’t be that smart, right? Being dead had to be terrible for like….depth perception and general reasoning, yeah?

Oikawa could  _ totally  _ fight off a ghost.

He was seriously not thinking how he was supposed to win a fight against something technically undead. 

He raced to the barn, and held up his own phone to take in bales of hay and old metal shelves and…nothing, absolutely nothing.

“Oh,  _ come on _ ,” Oikawa complained. “Couldn’t even give me a shovel!”

He heard another moan this time, quieter and somehow closer. A scraping sound echoed against the wood.

Oikawa gritted his teeth. 

Oh, fuck no, he was not being the damsel in distress, thank you! He had  _ standards! _

He crawled into the shadows, hiding in between the hay and the shelves and shutting off his phone. 

A second later ominous red light eased out from the darkness.

Oikawa covered his mouth, trying hard not to even breathe.

In the dark, the figure stopped, hood cloaked like a grim reaper.

The face turned toward Oikawa, hollow holes where eyes should be.

Then, it came closer.

Oikawa couldn’t move.

Closer.

Oikawa clutched his phone tighter.

A hand like bones reached out at him, stretching towards his cheek.

Oikawa clicked on his phone to floodlight, the same time he rammed his shoulder into the shelf and  _ pushed. _

The shelf fell between them and Oikawa blinked, eyes struggling to focus in the sudden light. Pain broke out as the shelf clipped his leg and he closed his eyes in a grimace. 

“Oikawa!”

More lights joined, flashlights and searchlights, and in a second the whole barn was lit up from top to bottom.

The barn floor was empty, just a fallen shelf and Oikawa trying to catch his breath.

He glanced up to find Iwaizumi leaning next to him, grabbing his shoulder. “Hey, what happened?”

Oikawa swallowed. “So, remember, when I said I didn’t believe in ghosts….”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Please enjoy some Saturday morning cartoons.

“I’m really--” Oikawa knocked away the ugly orange shock blanket, “-- _ really-- _ ” he ducked the pen light being shone in his eyes, “--really fine!” 

All that got him was a  _ humph!  _ from the local nurse the festival had on hand--a woman who looked old enough and mean enough to be around when bloodletting was a thing .

Kuroo leaned in, contemplative. “I don’t know, still looks like he has a bit of the old crazy eyes. Better give him a full check up.”

The medic pulled out a thermometer that really didn’t look like it went in his ear.

Oikawa glared. “Oh,  _ don’t even  _ think about it.”

“I think he’s alright, Nurse Mura,” a tall man with dyed blond hair and a grin that looked photoshopped stepped in. “Absolutely fine, I’d say. Kids these days, they’re hearty. And perfectly fine and hearty people have absolutely no reason to sue the city for traumatic damages, right?”

Oikawa was already exasperated. “What?”

“Not that you could, of course, since the town legally holds no liability for any and all supernatural related attacks.” The man stuck out his hand. “Mayor Fujimoto--just Fuiji for short--welcome to our town! Don’t suppose you’d be willing to do a small news feature, yeah?”

Oikawa’s eye twitched.

Sensing an imminent explosion, Suga stepped in between them. “I think we all just need a moment to think. We’re okay, thanks.” 

He grabbed Oikawa’s shoulders and led him away from the parked ambulance they were using for checkups--amazingly, the only injuries were a few bruises and scratches.

The rest of the group followed behind them.

When they got far enough away, Iwaizumi didn’t wait to step forward, grabbing Oikawa’s chin and tilting it to the side to see the small scrape on his cheek. 

“Shit,” he cursed quietly.

Oikawa met his eyes and finally smiled. “I really am fine, you know? Just a few cuts and a bruised leg. No need to get that look.”

Iwaizumi’s neck flushed red and his hand dropped awkwardly, taking an immediate step back to give them some distance. 

Then, he turned to look at the rest. “I can work on selling the van tomorrow. That’ll pay for the bus tickets back home.”

“Sooner the better,” Suga agreed, Bokuto nodding fervently still holding up a giant pretzel like a barricade.

Oikawa blinked. “Wait,  _ what _ ?”

“We can’t leave,” Kuroo blurted out.

“Sure, we can!” Bokuto said. “There’s buses and taxis and….and trains! I don’t know, it’s a real live--um, real dead  _ ghost _ ! Maybe they’ll call in like the army or something. Ooh, or a secret ghost defense squad.” He paused. “Actually, that would be cool. Crap,” he steeled himself, shaking his head, “no, we should still get out of here--awesome ghost army or not, right?”

“Right,” Iwaizumi said bluntly. “We’re leaving.”

“But, what about Kenma and the inn,” Kuroo said. “If there actually is a curse and we just  _ leave _ him, what’s going to happen then?”

Suga sighed. “I don’t know; but, I’m also not sure how us being here could help him now.”

“By solving the mystery, of course,” Oikawa said.

“What mystery?” Iwaizumi ran a hand down his face. “Look, Oikawa, I didn’t believe in ghosts either--heck, I’m still not sure I do. But, I also can’t explain anything that happened tonight. What I do know is this is  _ dangerous _ . You and Suga already got attacked once.”

“Exactly,” Oikawa’s voice was firm, “that’s why we’re staying. We can’t give up now!”

Suga frowned. “Is this….is this really still about going camping?”

Oikawa huffed. “Please, Suga, I’m much more multifaceted than that. No, this is about something simple and mature:  _ revenge _ .”

“Oh, yeah, much more mature.” Kuroo couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll admit,” Oikawa held up his hands, “at first, the ‘ghost’ had me freaked out, too. But, then, I remembered something--something really, really important.” He pointed one finger up like a philosopher, slinging the other arm around Bokuto. “Ghosts aren’t real. Which means whatever happened here has a reasonable, logical explanation behind it. Which  _ also  _ means someone’s behind it. Which  _ finally _ means that someone chased me into a musty old barn and ruined my fourth favorite jacket and I’m not leaving until that person pays!”

“Are you serious--” Iwaizumi cut off in a frustrated hiss, pinching the bridge of his nose.  _ “Just buy a new jacket!” _

Oikawa pouted. “It’s the principle of the thing, Iwa-chan.”

“You really think the ghost isn’t real,” Suga asked cautiously.

Oikawa grinned at him. “Come on, Suga, you’re our scientist! You’re not just going to accept the supernatural without  _ any  _ tests, right? Where’s your replication study?”

Suga paused for an entire beat. “I can’t tell if that was the best or worst way you’ve ever used science.”

Kuroo jumped in on the wavering expressions. “I’m with Oikawa. Let’s just give it another day, right? Give it a vote tomorrow night and if we decide to go….well, then Oikawa and I won’t argue--”

“I’ll probably still argue,” Oikawa admitted.

“I won’t argue and we can break out the duct tape for Oikawa,” Kuroo corrected. “But, in the meantime, we check on Kenma and try to figure out what’s really going on here--curse or not.”

Iwaizumi crossed his arms. “So to check: you two’s idea for what to do right after we were just attacked by a ghost is to go stay the night where the ghost is supposed to be haunting?”

“Um,” Bokuto said, “that’s a really good point.” He fell back to sit on the ground, adjusting his knee padding. “Hey, you think there’s more rooms at the actual hotel now?”

Suga glanced around where it looked like entire flocks of people were now wandering across the field, talking excitedly with fancy EMP devices and staticky radios held in their hands. “No, if anything I think the ghost hunters just got worse.”

“Who would hunt ghosts,” Bokuto complained again.

Oikawa focused on Iwaizumi. “We could set up a watch at the inn.”

“We could just  _ leave, _ ” Iwaizumi argued.

“And give up?”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what--determined, inspiring, born leader--give me a hint.”

“Like a stubborn, infuriating--”

“Hey, guys,” Bokuto was frowning at the ground. “What’s this?”

He held a piece of ratty black fabric that looked to be tangled in a stick. And, most unusual, it seemed to be glowing faintly red.

“That…,” Kuroo leaned in, “that looks like part of the ghost’s cloak.”

“I thought ghosts were supposed to, you know, disappear and stuff.” Bokuto tilted his head. “What kind of ghost gets stuck on a stick?”

“What kind, indeed.” Oikawa grinned. “Suga?”

Bokuto handed over the fabric to Suga, who held it up to the light. 

“It has something on it--it looks like chalk,” Suga dusted his fingers over it and the red faded, traces of it coming off on his hands. “It’s some kind of chemical.”

“What chemical,” Kuroo asked.

Suga shook his head. “I’ll have to check.”

Oikawa looked back up, staring smugly at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi just sighed. “Fine, one more night.”

  
  
  
  


\-------

“So,” Kuroo swung open the front door and stretched his neck from a long,  _ long  _ morning at the library, “good news: I’m a master of research and….I found the curse.”

He looked around and only deflated slightly when it appeared it was just Bokuto left in the lobby to hear his dramatic announcements.

Oh, well, he’d make it work

Bokuto looked up from where he was polishing the wood detailing along the walls.

“That sounds like just bad news,” Bokuto admitted.

“The good news is that it’s not a real curse!” Kuroo finished triumphantly. “I’ve looked through everything, legitimately  _ everything _ \--if I see one more microfilm I’m going to gag--but, the important part is that there’s nothing about the curse in any of the actual old records from the town’s founding. Nothing until the local college printed it up as a ghost story in the mid-20s which means….”

Bokuto lit up. “They found something!” He blinked. “Wait, then, why didn’t you? I thought you were good at research?”

“I am,” Kuroo said flatly. “You’re really killing my dramatic reveal here, Bo.”

“Oh, sorry, want me to try again?”

“That’s all I ask.” Kuroo shook his head. “Anyway, no, it means they made it up, probably for the fun of a good ghost story and then it took root.” He sniffed. “Amateurs, everyone knows a good ghost story has to be rooted in facts first.”

Bokuto gasped--very dramatically, too--and Kuroo preened.

“So, a fake curse,” Bokuto said.

“Means a fake ghost,” Kuroo agreed. 

Bokuto frowned. “Didn’t seem fake last night.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll figure that out later.” Kuroo smiled as he saw Kenma stepping in. “Hold up, I’m telling Kenma.”

He jogged and leaned down over the desk. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Kenma’s smile was an understated thing, barely a tilt of his lips before he leaned down to grab some bills and the entire masterpiece was lost in a wave of hair. “I didn’t know if you’d still be here.”

“What? Of course, we are.” Kuroo grinned. “Besides, I wouldn’t leave without telling you.”

Kenma glanced up, ears going the faintest pink and Kuroo felt something like scoring a winning goal and acing a test all wrapped up into a warm, fuzzy feeling held tight in his chest.

Kuroo cleared his throat. “Anyway, I found some information about your curse. It’s fake--completely made up by some bored college kids looking for a story. That’s gotta help, right?”

“It does.” Kenma paused. “I don’t think it’ll make much difference though if a ghost keeps showing up.” He grimaced. “I’ve already had to deal with a few of the ghost chasers.”

Kuroo smirked. “Maybe you should go with it, become the new haunted hotel? Wouldn’t even need to worry about repairs.”

“No,” Kenma’s voice was adamant. “This manor….it’s important, it used to be beautiful. It shouldn’t be turned into some kind of tourist attraction for people who don’t even care about it.” He looked down. “It’s not what the previous owner would have wanted.”

Kuroo paused, feeling very aware that was the longest sentence he’d ever heard Kenma say.

“You really care about it, don’t you,” he said.

Kenma nodded, turning back to the desk. “It’s better when it’s fixed up.”

“It’s beautiful now,” Kuroo said before sighing. “Well, hey, maybe Suga will find something with that rag.”

Kenma looked up. “What rag?”

“We found part of the ghost’s cloak last night,” Kuroo explained absently, “Apparently, it’s got some kind of chemical in it that Suga’s looking at. We think that’s what makes it glow. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

“....Right.”

Kuroo looked up to find Kenma frowning.

“What’s up?”

“I….,” Kenma’s frown got deeper, pausing and going very quiet.

Kuroo watched him. “Kenma, what’s up?”

Abruptly, Kenma looked up. “I was wrong.”

Kuroo blinked. “What?”

Kenma nodded, looking up and eying Kuroo seriously. “I think….that maybe you should leave. It’s too dangerous to stay.”

“Wait, what about the curse--the ghost?” Kuroo stared at him. “We can’t just leave now! What’ll happen to you? The inn?”

“There’s nothing you can do.” Kenma stepped away, face blank. “I’m sorry, I really am. But, you should get out of town. Soon as you can.”

“Kenma?!”

Kuroo blinked but Kenma was already turning away, papers clenched tightly in his hands.

Bokuto walked up behind him, frowning. “Awww, why’d Kenma run away?” He gave Kuroo a sympathetic look. “Did you try a pickup line again? Sorry, bro.”

“What?  _ No _ \--also, shut up, my pickup lines are amazing!” Kuroo shook his head. “I….I don’t know what happened.”

There was a loud bang right as the door swung open and they both looked over just as two towering piles of boxes marched into the lobby.

Then, the boxes sprouted a bright orange head.

“Hey,” Hinata grinned, hefting the boxes higher, “oooh, wow, the lobby looks so much better! That the new polish?”

Bokuto beamed.

“What’s with the boxes,” Kuroo asked.

“Leftovers,” Kageyama dropped the boxes to the floor, opening it to find bags of slightly stale carnival food. “From the festival. Want some?”

“Sure!” Bokuto was already grabbing for it. “Thanks!”

Hinata sat his pile down with an  _ oof!  _ “Yeah, apparently they didn’t get to sell everything with the ghost attack last night and they’re making stuff fresh for tonight.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry, festival’s got two more days, they’ll make up the money tonight...maybe double with all the tourists this year.”

“If the ghost doesn’t show up,” Kageyama said.

“Yeah.” Hinata shivered before turning down to admire the new finishing. “Man, Kenma’s going to be thrilled. We’ve been meaning to work on the lobby for  _ ages _ .”

“Think he’s busy,” Kuroo muttered.

Hinata tilted his head.

“He ran out like a minute ago.” Bokuto said, tossing up some popcorn to catch in his mouth. “Kuroo said it wasn’t even bad flirting.”

Kuroo glared. “Because it  _ wasn’t _ .” He sighed. “I don’t even know what happened. I was just telling him what we found about the ghost and we were talking about the manor and, then, he just said we should leave and left before I could ask.”

“Oh.” Kageyama frowned. “I don’t know, Kenma gets weird about the manor.”

“ _ Kageyama, _ don’t say it like that,” Hinata complained. “It’s not  _ weird,  _ it’s sentinel.”

Kageyama made a face. “It’s what?”

“Sentinel, like having emotions, dummy!” Hinata kicked at Kageyama’s ankle. “Sentinel!”

“Wait, sentimental,” Kuroo asked.

“Huh?” Hinata nodded. “Oh, nevermind it’s that--it’s sentimental!”

Kageyama kicked in retaliation. “Now, who’s dumb!”

“Like you knew what it meant!”

“Why’s it sentimental?” Bokuto casually cut through the kick fight that was starting between them.

“Kenma grew up here.” Kageyama was still watching Hinata warily. “His grandmother owned it.”

“Seriously,” Kuroo asked.

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t really his grandmother but--,” Hinata cut off, dropping his voice lower. “Kenma doesn’t really like talking about it; but, they were super close. She let him stay here and finish up school after his parents moved.” He gave a small smile. “And Kenma’s like really,  _ really  _ smart, too. He graduated school a year early plus still writes programming stuff in his spare time  _ and  _ takes care of this place! It’s amazing!”

“Until next month, at least,” Kageyama grumbled and Hinata deflated.

Bokuto frowned. “What’s next month?”

“The bank’s auctioning the place off,” Kageyama said. “They’re the ones that own it, technically, after she died. There wasn’t a will and she didn’t really have any next of kin, so everything just kind of went to them. They’ve sent in a few assessors; but, for the most part, they’re letting Kenma keep up the inn part until the auction.”

“We’ll figure something out, though,” Hinata insisted. “That’s why we’re here helping Kenma fix it up.”

Kuroo swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Kenma never said anything.”

“Yeah.” Hinata scooted in. “Hey, don’t tell him we told you, okay? He really doesn’t like to talk about it and--”

“Shoyou.”

“Eep!” Hinata jumped a foot in the air before turning to see Kenma calmly waiting for him at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Kenma! We weren’t doing anything suspicious at all! Okay?”

“....okay.” Kenma’s face was as placid as ever. “Could you and Kageyama come help me?”

“Oh, sure!” Hinata took his chance where he could, dragging Kageyama up the stairs behind him.

Once they left, Kuroo and Bokuto looked at each other.

“Man, that sucks,” Bokuto’s shoulders sagged. “Poor guy and with all the ghost attacks, too, maybe this place really is cursed.”

“Maybe.” Kuroo was quiet.

Bokuto hefted the pail of wood finish, wincing slightly.

Kuroo lifted his head. “The knee?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto admitted sheepishly, “just a bit sore today from working. I don’t want to stop only because of that, though.”

“Least let me help.” Kuroo grabbed the wood finish from him, lifting up the other pail alongside it. “Where we going?”

Bokuto grinned. “Front steps! Suga and Oikawa already nailed down the loose boards.”

“Where are they, anyway?”

Bokuto shrugged. “Think they went with Iwaizumi for the van.”

When they got outside, the sky had already gone dark with heavy grey clouds and the rolling sound of thunder. 

Kuroo tipped his head, squinting up at it. “Might want to wait on that wood finish, Bo?”

Bokuto blinked, already setting down the tarps and blocking off the door. “It’ll be fine if we work under the cover, right?”

“I….I have no idea.” Kuroo pulled out his phone and started searching.

A few seconds later, his sleeve was pulled.

“.....Kuroo?” 

“One sec, I’m looking it up.”

“Kuroo!” Bokuto’s voice was small and high pitched. “I-is that….”

Kuroo looked up and, then, froze.

Standing in the shadows of the woods was the cloaked figure, drenched in red.

Lightning boomed around them.

“It’s not real,” Kuroo said faintly.

The figure gilded closer.

“Y-yeah,” Bokuto’s hand was still wrapped in his sleeve, “it, um, looks real right now, though.”

A low moan echoed around the trees.

Kuroo’s heart pounded. “Definitely not real.”

“....okay.”

Lightning pounded down as thunder started to shake the ground. The moaning got louder and the figure was close enough for Kuroo to see skin stretched tight like a skeleton. 

The thing didn’t have eyes, just sunken holes.

Revulsion ran up Kuroo’s spine.

Bokuto was shaking. “We should run anyway, right?”

“Right.”

They ran just as thes sky cracked open, rain plummeting down.

The moans echoed around them and Kuroo looked back to see stretched skeletal fingers reaching towards them. 

He ran faster, turning around the house corner and pulling Bokuto with him. 

“We should get to the main road,” Kuroo said, already dragging them off in that direction. “That’ll take us to town!”

Bokuto was chanting. “It’s not real, it’s not real!”

“Yeah, well,  _ something’s  _ still chasing us!”

Bokuto looked up with big eyes. “Kuroo, my knee. I can’t.”

Kuroo glanced down then at the road that suddenly seemed really, really far away from town. The moaning was getting louder, closer and the rain was falling like sheets.

Kuroo made an executive decision. “Trust me.”

Bokuto did.

Kuroo shoved them both into the garden shed, pressed tight against rakes and lawn equipment.

“It’s going to find us,” Bokuto whispered.

_ “Shh,”  _ Kuroo ordered, shoving a hand over each of their mouths.

The moaning echoed over the sound of rain hitting off the tin roof.

Somehow it was very different to say a ghost wasn’t real sitting in a warm library rather than when something skeletal, something  _ inhuman _ , was chasing after you and looked like it came prepared.

Kuroo stayed absolutely silent, damp and trying not to shiver, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bokuto in a shed way too small.

A minute passed, then slowly two. Every second felt like it took a century.

Eventually, the moaning started to fade until finally…..

_ Finally,  _ all that was left was the rain.

Bokuto spoke in a whisper. “Is it gone?”

“I,” Kuroo swallowed, “I think we should check.”

His hands inched closer to the door, fingers curling hesitantly to pull it just an inch.

Outside, there were only trees and bushes.

Kuroo’s shoulders dropped. “It’s gone.”

“That was  _ terrifying! _ ” Bokuto moaned, tipping his head back against the wall.

There was the scrape of equipment and a sudden  _ twang! _ against something distinctly hollow.

Bokuto and Kuroo both frowned.

Together, they leaned down, shoving aside equipment until an old metal box with rusted edges.

Kuroo pried it open, surprised when it came back easy.

Bokuto’s eyes went wide. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah….it definitely is.”

Inside the old metal box were neatly folded piles of clearly recent money.

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

An hour later, rain hit against the diner window as all five of them sat around the table, an expectant silence hanging over them as Bokuto and Kuroo finally finished their end of the story.

“Hmm.” Oikawa gave his milkshake one long sip before leaning back with the air of a man who’d battled for a hard won revelation.

The rest of the group waited.

“This town’s weird as fuck,” Oikawa said.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks, Sherlock.”

“No, seriously,” Oikawa waved a hand at the diner around them, now packed to the brim with townspeople, nervous festival goers, and excited ghost hunters, “we’ve got a curse that’s not really a curse, a ghost popping up apparently drenched in chemicals, and-- _ now-- _ we’ve got a box of money stuffed in a tool shed. Oh, and an entire festival dedicated to tomatoes--which still feels kind of sus to me, to be honest.”

“Not all of it’s weird,” Kuroo muttered. “Kenma’s still here.”

Oikawa pointed a fry at him. “Your would-be-boyfriend owns a haunted mansion, Kuroo, hate to break it to you, but, that’s weird.”

“Technically, the bank owns it,” Bokuto corrected

Iwaizumi cut through the impending debate. “What did you do with the money?”

“We put it back,” Kuroo said. “What were we supposed to do with it?”

Bokuto nodded. “We can’t just take it. It’s still  _ someone’s _ , right?”

“Yeah, someone who left it in a dirty old shed.” Oikawa massaged his temples. “How much money we talking here? Like I’m-a-millionaire or yay-free-meal-on-me?”

“More the second one.” Kuroo shrugged. “I didn’t exactly count it, looked like a few thousand.”

“So, we’re not thinking ghost came back for his buried treasure, then?” Oikawa sighed. “Dang, we could use some buried treasure about now.”

“If it helps, I know what the chalk stuff is,” Suga set down the piece of fabric, carefully bagged and glow faded. “I did some basic chemical analysis--”

“You brought a chemistry lab for  _ camping _ ,” Bokuto interrupted.

Suga blinked, utterly bewildered. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“Nevermind,” Kuroo shook his head. “Carry on.”

“It’s industrial grade strontium aluminate,” Suga said. “Basically a heavily concentrated version of what’s used in glow toys.”

“You’re saying you can just buy this at the store,” Iwaizumi asked.

Suga paused. “Well….probably not in this condensed of a form. If someone wanted to buy this, they had to get it special. Probably in bulk, too; it fades pretty quick.”

Oikawa smirked, turning to Iwaizumi. “Doesn’t sound like your average, everyday ghost, does it?”

“I didn’t used to have  _ everyday ghosts, _ ” Iwaizumi muttered before sighing. “Okay, you may have had a point.”

Oikawa mock gasped, fumbling for his phone. “Wait, Iwa-chan, say it again! I wasn’t recording!”

“Aww,” Kuroo teased, “and that was probably the only time you’ll hear it!”

Oikawa flipped him off without looking.

“So….,” Bokuto lowered his voice, checking over his shoulders, “the chemical...does that mean? The ghost is definitely a fake. We’re staying?”

Oikawa raised a brow, looking expectantly at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi folded his arms. “It means--”

“Oh, you kids are still here!” Mr. Yamashita,the town banker, hustled up to their table, smile genial. Suga quickly slid the bag with the cloak back into his jacket. “Good,  _ good,  _ I thought the ghost might have scared you away.”

Oikawa grinned back. “Apparently, we take a bit more than that.”

“Brave boys,” Yamashita said approvingly. “Not many can stay up at that old manor.”

“We’re helping fix it up,” Bokuto said happily.

Yamashita nodded. “It is a beauty--oldest spot in all of the town, you know? Nice to see so many looking into our history.” He glanced around the packed diner. “Never seen this town look so alive.” He laughed. “Ironic, I suppose.”

Iwaizumi exchanged a look with Kuroo.

“Seems like you almost like having a ghost,” Kuroo said.

“Do I?” Yamashita shivered. “Oh, he’s terrifying, don’t get me wrong. My bank was one of the first places that saw him!”

“Really,” Iwaizumi asked.

Yamashita nodded. “About a month ago, me and a couple of my tellers. Thought I was going to faint on the spot.” He looked at them seriously. “Our Founder’s Ghost is a very serious matter, don’t misunderstand.” 

A scream broke out down the street and a few seconds later a young woman burst through the door of the diner.

“CALL THE SHERIFF!” she yelled. “CALL  _ SOMEONE!  _ THE FOUNDER’S GHOST, IT’S HERE! I SAW IT!”

“What?” Yamashita grabbed her shoulders trying to calm her down. “When?  _ Where? _ ”

Everyone in the diner was on their feet, crowding in closer as the woman took large ragged breaths.

“The mayor’s office!” She yelled. “It attacked Mayor Fuiji!”

Gasps and low murmurs broke out across the dinner as half the crowd made for the door, rushing down the street to try and see if it was still there.

As one, the group all looked to Iwaizumi.

“Okay,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “....maybe we should stay a little bit longer.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

“Seriously, Kenma,” Kuroo jogged up beside him, “we can’t just leave!”

Kenma continued to move the cleaning supplies. “You can. I’m serious, too, it’s getting dangerous here.” He hesitated before looking up to meet his eyes. “I don’t want you to get caught up in this.”

“But, this is what we do!”

“Since when?”

“Like two days ago? But, why does that matter?”

Kenma rolled his eyes.

“Listen,” Kuroo swung in front of him, grabbing Kenma’s shoulders and pulling them both to a stop, “we’re not just going to leave you with this. Suga already found out the ghost is using chemicals on his cloak to make the glow. It’s  _ fake,  _ Kenma, it’s all fake! And now we just have to prove how.”

Kenma stared back at him, frowning. “How?”

“.....we’re still figuring that part out,” Kuroo admitted.

“And that’s why it’s dangerous,” Kenma said. “Even if it’s not a ghost--there’s still  _ someone.”  _ He sighed. “And if they’re serious enough to go through all this, who knows what they’ll do.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo said, “we can help.”

Kenma shook his head. “I’d rather you be safe.” He brushed Kuroo’s hands away and stepped around him. “I can handle it on my own. You don’t need to get involved.”

Kuroo watched him go.

He felt strangely like there was something he was missing.

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

A pair of legs in dark maroon jeans leaned on the edges of Iwaizumi’s vision and he would know it anywhere even if the voice didn’t give it away a second later.

“So, you stuffing that one thing-a-jig back in the other do-hickie so the whole thing will work?”

Iwaizumi glanced up from the engine. “Okay, I know at least  _ you  _ know more about cars than that.”

Oikawa grinned. “Fine. But, seriously, last time I checked the van’s still not going to run without a functioning transmission--no matter what car magic you do with it. So, what are you working on?”

“Yeah, but what I can do is fix up everything else,” Iwaizumi said. “Whole thing looks like it was held together by duct tape and loose screws. Honestly, where did you even  _ find  _ this?”

“I’ll never tell.” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Well, after I’m done, at least this thing’s going to be the smoothest running death trap of a van that I can make it. I’m fixing up  _ everything _ , first chance I get.”

Oikawa propped his head on his hand and smiled, the softest one he only gave when it was just him and Iwaizumi. “See, I knew you’d love it.”

“What do you mean?

Oikawa hummed, shifting until his legs were pressed up against Iwaizumi’s, warm even despite the layers of fabric.

“Well,” Oikawa lowered his voice, tilting his chin down, “you always like fixing things up and making them better, right? I do still know that, Hajime _. _ ”

Iwaizumi’s throat felt dry. “Still needs a transmission.”

There was a long moment of expectant silence before Oikawa sighed, withdrawing back and hopping down.

“Yeah, still needs a transmission,” Oikawa said, tone back to normal. “Anything on that yet?”

Iwaizumi turned back to the van, shrugging. “Local mechanic said he found something a few towns over--he’s willing to hold it for us; but, we still need the money to actually buy it.”

“Working on that,” Oikawa assured brightly. He looked over to find Suga heading into the shop’s garage. “Working on that now, actually!”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Thought we’d go talk to the mayor,” Suga answered. “He  _ is  _ the latest victim. Maybe we can figure out why.”

“What he said,” Oikawa skipped back. “Have fun turning the van into a Transformer or whatever.”

“Wait,” Iwaizumi caught his wrist and Oikawa stopped, eyes widening. “Just be careful, okay?”

Oikawa blinked and then plastered on his usual smile. “Of course, Iwa-chan, what do you take me for?”

“I’ll make sure we’re safe,” Suga reassured.

“You, I trust.” Iwaizumi let go of Oikawa’s wrist, going back to the engine.

Oikawa just huffed, gesturing to Suga and heading to the main road. “No respect, no confidence. What utter betrayal!”

A few minutes down the road, Suga cleared his throat pointedly.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Oikawa said. “That was nothing.”

Suga smirked, devious like no one ever believed Oikawa about when he told them. “Didn’t look like nothing. Looked pretty comfortable to me.”

“Yeah, well….,” Oikawa grumbled, kicking at a rock, “ _ I’m  _ not the one who wanted to take a break. Talk to him.”

Suga frowned but obligingly let it drop.

“Whatever.” Oikawa waved the entire matter away and at least his next grin was genuine. “Let’s go see a guy about a ghost.”

“About that, any plan about how we’re going to get a meeting with the mayor,” Suga asked.

“Hmm.” Oikawa tapped his chin before he saw a store sign and immediately brightened. “Suga, give me five dollars. Now, it’s an emergency!”

“Absolutely not. Use your own.”

Oikawa gasped. “How could you not trust me?”

“I know you.”

“Darn.” Oikawa pulled out his own wallet. “You know, one day that’s actually going to work on someone.”

Oikawa handed over the money to the store florist and got what was legitimately the puniest bouquet Suga had ever seen.

“What are you going to do with that,” Suga asked.

“Well, maybe I’d tell you if you paid.” Oikawa said. “But since not, you’re going to have to wait and see!”

They both stopped at the mayor’s office, Oikawa casually gliding through the door. “Flowery delivery! Got a get well gift for the mayor!”

The receptionist looked a step away from frantic, catching a ringing phone and putting it on hold a second before it started ringing again. “What? Oh, just put it in the conference room with the others! We’re busy today!”

“Thanks!” Oikawa beamed, pulling Suga along with him

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” Suga shook his head.

“I’m a master of disguise.” Oikawa winked, casually throwing the small bouquet with the others along with the massive orders of festival supplies. Oikawa grimaced, flipping through them idly. “Ugh, this place is a mess. Come on, let’s go find his office.”

In the end, it wasn’t actually that hard if only because the yelling gave it away pretty easily. 

“NO, IT WAS A  _ GHOST!  _ AN ACTUAL GHOST! WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING!”

“Mayor--”

Anything that was left of the oily but put together man from the festival was lost under messed up hair and frantic eyes. “IT WANTS TO KILL ME!”

Oikawa and Suga stopped right outside the office.

“Mayor Fuiji,” Sheriff Ikeda said, not sounding like it was the first time, “if you could just describe it in detail. Why do you think you were attacked?”

“Because--how should I know? That’s  _ your _ job!” Mayor Fuiji pressed his finger hard into the sheriff's face. “I don’t care what you do, Sheriff! Call in backup, find the freaking Ghostbusters for all I care! Just fix this!” He tipped his head back. “And what are you kids doing here?”

Suga and Oikawa pulled up short.

“Um, we heard what happened,” Suga said, “and thought we’d bring you some get well soon flowers…..since you were so nice after the festival and all!”

Sheriff Ikeda narrowed his eyes.

“Oh.” Mayor Fuiji immediately groaned. “I can’t talk right now, boys. Come back another day!”

And, then, the mayor stormed out of his office, a phone already held up to his ear.

….leaving them both alone with a sheriff who looked a lot less believing.

“I don’t know what you two are up to,” Sheriff Ikeda said, “but, I know that the only times I’ve seen you have been around the ghost attacks. This town doesn’t need troublemakers in it, do you understand?”

“We’re not doing anything,” Oikawa said flatly. “Sheriff.”

Sheriff Ikeda crossed his arms. “I’m telling you this once: get out of town if you know what’s good for you.”

“We’ll be sure to take that under consideration,” Suga said, grabbing Oikawa’s arm and steering them away.

After they got back to the street, Oikawa turned to Suga.

“For some reason, I don’t think he likes us that much,” he said.

Suga snorted. “You think?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

“So, as we can see,” Kuroo wound a piece of red yarn, spreading out in a massive diagram that was currently set up across their room’s floor, “if we connect the ghost’s creepy red glowing stuff to the box of money in the shed and,  _ then,  _ connect it back to the attack on the mayor which we,  _ then _ , connect back to this very inn,  _ then _ we have very clearly found….” He drew in a breath and groaned. “That I have no clue what’s going on here.”

Hanging off the side of the bed, Oikawa nodded sagely. “This town’s weird as fuck.”

“Okay.” Suga massaged his temples. “So, we talked to the mayor and he at least seemed to be genuinely freaked out about everything.”

“Well, talked until the sheriff chased us off,” Oikawa corrected. “Wouldn’t say it was that long of a meeting.”

Iwaizumi sighed. “In other words, all we really got is the chemical that Suga found, the money, about a hundred ghost hunters running around town, and townspeople that are blaming a magic phantom for everything from pet-napping to killed plants. Anything else?”

“Van’s still broken,” Bokuto added helpfully.

_ “And a broken van!”  _ Oikawa sat up, only to fling himself back on the bed dramatically, shaking the headstand lightly.

Iwaizumi whacked his leg. “Stop that.”

Suga looked at Kuroo. “If Kenma wants us to leave….how long do you think he’s really going to let us stay at the inn?”

“Kenma’s not just going to kick us out.” Kuroo paused. “Okay, he’s  _ probably  _ not going to kick us out, depends on how serious he’s being about the whole too-dangerous-leave-for-our-own-good thing.”

“Which is also weird,” Oikawa pointed out.

Kuroo sighed. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Ugh, this sucks.” Bokuto collapsed on the bed, half on top of Oikawa who let out a pained wheeze in protest. 

Iwaizumi glared at both of them. “Quit falling on the bed, it’s old. You’re going to shake something loose.”

“Huh, like what,” Bokuto asked. “It’s a bed.”

“Like screws or the woods slates or--”

“Or this,” Suga said, pointing at the old bedside table where a tiny corner of paper had slipped out between the openings. Suga carefully tried to ease it out. “Looks like it got stuck between the drawers.”

“What is it?” Oikawa leaned back over.

“It’s--” Suga opened the paper, scanning it before his eyes widened. “Oh.”

As one, all of them crowded over it.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bokuto stared, “does this--”

“Yeah.” Kuroo pointed at the crest at the top. “Hey, Oikawa, does this mean what I think it means?”

“Yes, it absolutely does.” Oikawa grinned. “Guys, I think we just solved this mystery.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

“You sure this is a good idea,” Iwaizumi asked.

“No _ p _ e.” Oikawa popped the p. “Here, help me up!”

Iwaizumi sighed, but obligingly gave him a boost so Oikawa could hop up on the main festival stage--still empty in the late morning as people milled around working on setting up for the last night of the festival.

“Suga,” Oikawa called and Suga gave him a thumbs up, turning on the stage speakers with a sudden boom.

Everyone in the town square looked towards the stage and Oikawa grinned.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be up there,” one festival worker called.

Oikawa ignored him. “EXCUSE ME! Good people of the town, we have an announcement to make!” He paused for dramatic effect. “We’re taking care of your ghost problem!”

Murmuring and whispers broke out across the steadily growing crowd.

“What,” the camcorder ghost hunter from earlier pushed his way forward and Iwaizumi shifted to block his path to the stage. “You can’t be saying that  _ you  _ actually caught the ghost!”

“No worries, you’ll have plenty of time to thank us tonight!” Oikawa cleared his throat. “But, no, even better! We’re revealing the ghost  _ tonight,  _ right here at this very festival! And no force on Earth is going to stop us because we have proof!” He winked. “Just thought we should give you guys a heads up! You know set up the cameras, bring the kids, polish the tomatoes, whatever! But absolutely be here tonight if you want to find out the truth about the so-called Founder’s Ghost. Got it?”

He hopped down off the stage and Iwaizumi caught his arm, Bokuto moving to help them with the veritable swarm of people trying to surround him with questions.

Kuroo, meanwhile, waited on the side and smirked.

Kenma came to stand next to him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, hey, Kenma!” Kuroo’s smirk widened. “Didn’t you hear? We’re catching a ghost!”

Kenma narrowed his eyes if anything looking more cautious. 

Kuroo laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re helping. Just trust us.”

“Whatever you’re thinking.” Kenma sighed. “I don’t think it’s going to go how you’re planning it.”

“Hmm, well, let’s not be pessimistic,” Kuroo said just as Hinata and Kageyama ran up to them.

“Is it true?” Hinata’s eyes were wide. “Are you really catching the Founder’s Ghost?”

“Definitely.” Kuroo smiled. “Why, you want a chance at him, too?”

“Pfft, I could  _ totally  _ fight a ghost!” Hinata puffed up.

“Could not, ghosts aren’t solid,” Kageyama argued. “Your hands would just go through it!”

“Yeah, but, not this--,” Hinata coughed. “I mean, I could definitely fight the ghost better than you!”

Kageyama glared. 

“Well,” Kuroo teased, “I’m just glad to hear you’re no longer scared of it.”

Hinata shrugged. “Yeah, I….guess we got used to it.”

Kageyama nodded firmly.

“Good to know,” Kuroo said.

Kenma was still staring at him, the purse in his lips almost a question.

Kuroo winked. “I told you, Kenma, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Tonight, we’re catching the  _ real  _ ghost.” A beat. “By the way, mind if we borrow some stuff?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

Fireworks exploded in the early evening air as all of them leaned in.

“Everyone know the plan,” Oikawa asked.

Suga nodded. “Electric system’s rewired.”

Kuroo gave a thumbs up. “Trap’s set up--Iwaizumi even approved it! So, we’re definitely good.”

“I’m really not  _ that  _ kind of engineer,” Iwaizumi complained. “And it’s not really a trap, per se.”

“Meh, we’ll be fine.” Oikawa winked. “If anything goes wrong, we’ll just go with the backup plan and have Bokuto fight the thing.”

Bokuto tilted his head. “Huh? I’m doing what?”

Iwaizumi sighed hard.

“I’m kidding,” Oikawa reassured. “This is absolutely going to go great!” He brightened. “Annnnnnd, look, who it is. The last person we need! Let’s go!”

Oikawa jogged to the side, pulling Iwaizumi alongside him. “Hey, Sheriff, lovely night, isn’t it?”

Sheriff Ikeda glared at them.

“I thought I told you kids to  _ get out of town, _ ” the sheriff gritted out. “So, why do I have reports you’re stirring up things all across main street?”

“Leave with a bang,” Oikawa suggested innocently.

Iwaizumi elbowed him. 

“Really, we’re the victims here,” Oikawa complained. 

“Please stop trying to help us,” Iwaizumi said, pointing to the sheriff. “Just tell him.”

Oikawa nodded. “Fine, fine. Sheriff, all we need you to do is stay right here, okay? We’ve got everything handled, promise!”

Sheriff Ikeda narrowed his eyes.

But just then, Mayor Fuiji came over, looking like a nervous wreck beside him as he scanned the crowds. “Sheriff Ikeda, the whole town’s talking about that stupid ghost. Why aren’t you doing anything? Fix this!”

“Working on it, Mayor,” Sheriff Ikeda said, not taking his eyes off Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

“Good for you!” Oikawa waved. “Excuse us for a sec!”

Then, both of them threaded their way through the crowd and to the stage.

“Here we go.” Oikawa winked, climbing up with Iwaizumi’s help. “Go get in place!”

Oikawa stood up and let out a loud whistle and the festival fell into hushed whispers around him as Oikawa made his way to the mic.

“Evening, everyone! How are you guys enjoying your festival,” he called out. Confused silence greeted him. “Great! Exactly how I feel, too! Now,” Oikawa waited, watching the crowd, “as you may have heard earlier, my friends and I have found substantial, irrevocable  _ proof  _ that your ghost isn’t exactly what he claims to be. So, without further ado, I’m pleased to announce that your Founder’s Ghost is--”

The power cut off, plunging the entire festival into utter darkness as the static hiss broke through the speakers. 

Then, the screaming started.

Oikawa looked up as a figure draped in a red glow dove down towards the stage, directly towards him.

“Right here,” Oikawa finished, pleased. He tipped his head back. “SUGA, NOW!”

The lights suddenly flared back to life, washing away the red glow under the shine of spotlights. The cloaked shape hissed loudly and Oikawa winced back, covering his ears as skeletal hands reached towards him. 

Then, a tomato solidly smacked into the ghost, followed by another right behind it.

From the other side of the stage, Kuroo let out a whistle--both him and Bokuto hefting up a basket full of them. 

“Hey, ghost! Over here!” Bokuto yelled.

Kuroo snickered. “Not so scary covered in rotten tomatoes, are you?”

Broken moans echoed out, too loud and scratched to come from a human throat just as the ghost started to glide towards them.

Or tired to, at least.

Two empty pails swung down from the railing of the stage, whacking cleanly into the ghost and knocking him over while covering him in a layer of wood finish. Iwaizumi grinned from the stage railing.

The crowd had gone quiet, hissing--that now sounded more like broken electronics than supernatural moans--broke out from the figure with a cloak now stained in rotten tomatoes and a coating of oozing wood varnish.

The Founder’s Ghost suddenly seemed a lot less impressive.

And, then, the power went out again.

….which decidedly wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Um….Suga?” Oikawa squinted in Suga’s direction.

“What happened,” Iwaizumi called out.

“Someone’s at the main electric frame,” Suga said from behind the glow of a laptop. “They’re cutting me off! One second!”

“Shit!” Oikawa squinted, trying to see anything in the darkness, only the palest bit of moon making it through the smoke still from the fireworks.

He could see a shadow, just bending to the under half of the stage

“He’s trying to get away,” Kuroo yelled back.

“PLAN B!” Bokuto shouted suddenly.

Oikawa blinked rapidly. “We don’t have a Plan B?!”

“I got the lights!” Suga said and clicked the button.

The lights flooded back just in time to see Bokuto jump off the stage to full out flying tackle the Founder’s Ghost into the ground. 

“GOT HIM!” Bokuto smiled cheerfully.

Oikawa’s jaw dropped. 

The town’s collective jaw dropped.

A weak and very human moan broke out from the ghost trapped on the ground.

“....I was kidding,” Oikawa said weakly.

Kuroo was still on the ground, wheezing and looking like he was half to passed out from laughing, as Iwaizumi and Suga cautiously approached from both sides.

Iwaizumi stared. “Well, technically, it worked.

“Um, Bokuto,” Suga said, “I think you can let him up; he’s not going anywhere.”

“Oh, right.” Bokuto happily hopped up. “Hey and I didn’t even hurt my knee!”

“I love you,” Kuroo had finally managed to leverage himself up, wiping tears away from his eyes, “Bo,  _ seriously,  _ you’re the best bro on the planet, alright?”

Bokuto just beamed.

The Sheriff pushed his way through the crowd, looking a lot less amused than the rest of them. “If someone could please explain what’s going on here and why we have a  _ ghost  _ that looks like he’s been through a food processor!”

The group looked at each other. 

“Sure, thing, Sheriff,” Oikawa said, leaning down to the cloaked figure, “first thing, though, is that ghosts aren’t real! Meaning this is actually….” He felt along the cloak until he found the silicone feel of something distinctly mask like.

He pulled up. “Mr. Yamashita.”

The town’s bank manager glared back, still sounding heavily out of breath.

Gasps and murmurs broke out along the crowd and the Sheriff frowned. 

“But, why,” an old woman called out. “Yamashita’s lived in this town for years! He loves this town!”

“Exactly,” Kuroo said, folding his arms, “and only someone who knew this town as well as he did would be able to remember all the town stories,  _ including  _ made up ones about a Founder’s Curse.” He smirked. “But, he wasn’t working alone.”

Suga hit another key on his laptop and the stage-light clicked on, shining directly at the main power box and the person still cowering in the dark beside it.

“He couldn’t have done any of it without his accomplice, Mayor Fuiji,” Kuroo said, sounding satisfied.

The mayor looked around with wide eyes. “Wait, but….I-I was just--”

Iwaizumi grabbed his arm and pulled him over to where Yamashita was still scowling.

“One thing we thought was weird was that everyone here seemed to have a different description of the ghost.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “First, we just thought they were all making it up or superstitious--no offense--but, then we realized it was because there actually  _ were  _ two different ghosts.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto nodded eagerly, jumping in on the explanation, “which is why the ghost attacked the bank when Yamashita was there! So, Yamashita had an alibi even though, that time, the ghost really was Mayor Fuiji!”

“But, that wasn’t our only clue,” Suga bent down, running his finger along a drier part of the battered cloak until it came back glowing red. “When we realized the glow was industrial grade strontium aluminate, we knew whoever got it had to get it in bulk and in a way that wasn’t suspicious. What better way than the mayor’s office planning for the festival?” He ripped at the cloak, revealing the speaker system rigged up around the chest. “And also a great way to get extra speakers and to know the stage setup well enough to rig up the suddenly disappearing lights plus get into the sound system.”

“Not to mention, hook up the wires beforehand to make the ghost fly,” Oikawa said, pointing up at the chords now dangling in the light.

“Why would anyone  _ pretend _ to be a ghost, though,” one of the ghost hunters said, looking at Mayor Fuii and Yamashita disdainfully.

“For you,” Kuroo said, smirking. “Or, actually, for your money. Small town like this, having an actual ghost could bring in more tourism than they see all year,” he gestured around, “aside from you guys’ wonderful tomato festival, of course.”

Oikawa pulled out a piece of paper. “Which brings us to our last clue. Any idea what this is, Mayor Fuiji?”

“O-oh,” Mayor Fuji went even more pale, “well, that’s--”

“How did you  _ find  _ that,” Yamashita yelled.

“Slipped out between a drawer, actually.” Oikawa’s smile widened. “It’s a will, something you two should know considering your names are both on it with Mayor Fuiji as the executor and Yamashita signed as the legal witness. And I’m willing to bet there’s a copy of it hidden in one of your offices.” He looked at Mayor Fuji. “Hey, since you were so very prepared with the town’s liability for ghost attacks, I’m sure you remember the penalties for failure to execute a will and stealing from the estate?”

“What are you talking about,” Sheriff Ikeda demanded.

“The will’s from Kenma’s grandmother,” Kuroo explained. “It leaves the manor to him. Or it  _ would,  _ if these two didn’t hide it so the manor would revert back to the bank. Probably so they could make it their selling point for the new Founder’s Ghost tourism plot.” His smile was sharp. “Too bad Kenma actually cares about the place as more than just a cheap marketing scheme. You had to scare him off first.”

“And us, when we were the only ones dumb enough to stay there,” Iwaizumi added.

“Brave enough,” Oikawa corrected.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “And, especially, when it seemed like we were looking into the curse.”

Suga smiled. “Which is why when we announced we had proof, you had to use the ghost to stop us in front of everyone!”

“Ha!” Bokuto high-fived Suga. “We caught you!”

Kuroo tipped his head. “So, anything to say?”

Yamashita glared, remaining absolutely silent.

“No?” Kuroo looked over. “What about you, Sheriff?”

Sheriff Ikeda just shook his head, still looking too stunned to bother arguing as he called over his deputies. “Take them away to processing. I….I’ve gotta look up what all we actually need to charge them with.”

“I can help if you need,” Oikawa offered.

Sheriff Ikeda huffed. “Don’t push your luck, kid.”

“Wait, but….,” Mayor Fuiji looked around, blinking with wide eyes, “but, there really  _ is  _ a ghost! I saw it! I….I mean sure at first it was us, but--”

“Fuiji,  _ shut up _ ,” Yamashita ordered.

“Nah, go on,” Oikawa called back, “ a confession should  _ really  _ help our case!”

“YOU!” Yamashita’s restraint finally broke, trying to lunge at them only to be pulled back by the deputies shoving him in the patrol car. “We would have gotten away with everything, if not for you med--”

The car door shut with a click.

“You what,” Kuroo asked, curiously.

“I think he was going to say ‘meddling’,” Suga mused.

“Can’t be.” Oikawa shook his head. “Ew, who even says ‘meddling’ anymore. That’s so 60s.”

Suga frowned. “No, I really thought he was going to say ‘meddling’.”

“Pft, no way!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

Kuroo yawned, stretching his arms in the morning light as he finally made it back to the manor. And, then, he smiled--seeing who was waiting for him on the front porch.

“Hey,” he leaned in next to Kenma, “well, aren’t you the best sight to wake up to?”

Kenma rolled his eyes even as the tips of his ears went pink. “I don’t think it counts as ‘waking up’ if you never went to sleep.”

Kuroo groaned. “I didn’t think the sheriff was ever going to finish interviewing us. I could seriously write a novel by the time we finished paperwork. Don’t even get me started on the stuff for getting the reward.”

“Things to consider next time you get the town mayor and our bank manager arrested,” Kenma said.

“Heh, maybe.” He slipped the will out of his jacket. “Brought you something. Sheriff already found the original; but, thought you might want the copy.”

Kenma hesitated, reaching out to take it as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.

“Suga found it slipped between the two drawers,” Kuroo said softly. “Bad luck no one ever noticed it. She didn’t forget about you. Or this place.”

Kenma smiled, a silent, beautiful thing as gentle as the wind blowing through the trees.

Kuroo felt his breath catch.

“Thank you,” Kenma said quietly. “I can’t--I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Kuroo shrugged. “It’s yours anyway. It always should have been. All we did is find it.”

“You did more than that, even before the will.” Kenma paused. “....so, I guess this means you’re leaving.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo admitted, “I mean not quite yet; but, the rest are coming by with the car later. I just wanted to say bye alone before they all got here.” He tried for his normal smile, throwing Kenma a wink. “Not that I suppose you mind that much, what with trying to kick us out and all.”

Kenma looked away. “I...it wasn’t because I wanted you to leave. It’s complicated.”

“Oh, I know.” 

Kenma blinked. “What?”

“Something that was bugging us.” Kuroo tapped idly on the railing. “Everyone seemed pretty adamant about the ghost attacking the mayor’s office a couple nights ago….except Yamashita was already with us in the diner, so who else could it be?” His grin grew. “Then, I started thinking about who else could have put everything together. It would have to be someone who knew the town, knew that the mayor’s the one who plans the festival, and knew the Yamashita and him were already thinking about turning this place into a tourist trap. And, then….well, then, they’d have to also have a pretty good motive for dressing up like the Founder’s Ghost and scaring the mayor bad enough to reconsider his old ways. Good bit of revenge if I say so myself. So, what do you say, got any suspects?”

There was a long beat.

“You didn’t say anything,” Kenma said.

“Nah, told you that you could trust me.” Kuroo winked. “Wouldn’t worry about anyone else putting it together either, Mayor Fuiji pretty much shot himself in the foot with an outright confession. But, Kenma, one thing.”

Kenma still looked rather stunned. “What?”

Kuroo grabbed his shoulder and looked at him seriously. “For the love of all that is decent home security, please find a better place to hide your money than a  _ shed _ .”

Kenma blinked and, then, he started laughing--a small, surprised thing that gradually gained momentum until he was hiding his face in Kuroo’s shoulder and out of breath.

“I couldn’t,” Kenma finally managed, “the bank kept sending assessors, they’d find it if it was in the house and I couldn’t trust the bank.”

Kuroo held him in for a hug. “You were saving for the auction, weren’t you?”

Kenma nodded, face still pressed into Kuroo’s chest. “From my programming jobs--only Kageyama and Shoyou knew about it. Yamashita wouldn’t know what hit him.”

“Smart,” Kuroo said. “Gotta admit, though, a bit of a giveaway when both of them suddenly weren’t scared about the ghost anymore. Told them immediately, didn’t you?”

Kenma moaned. “I needed them to make the Founder’s Ghost thing work. I thought Mayor Fuiji might back off if he believed a real ghost was mad at him.”

“Kinda worked,” Kuroo agreed. “Could have just told me.”

“I couldn’t,” Kenma said. 

“I know.” Kuroo pulled back, just enough to look him in the eye, “and, Kenma, I just want you to understand I think it’s a very attractive quality in a date to keep me from getting arrested for aiding and abetting. I’m talking Sexiest Man Alive material, right there with candlelight dinners and walks on the beach.”

Kenma rolled his eyes hard enough to strain something.

“Darling?” Kuroo tried. “Dearest? Kitten?” 

Kenma groaned into his shoulder so Kuroo was taking that as a winner.

“Here,” Kenma shoved his own paper in Kuroo’s hands. “Please stop coming up with pet names.”

Kuroo looked down.

“It’s my number,” Kenma said. “Just in case, you wanted to come visit again or call or….”

Kenma trailed off and Kuroo grinned. “Oh, I’m going to text you all the time. All the memes, too. You’re going to regret this soooo much, I’m warning you now.”

Kenma smiled back. “I don’t think I will.”

“Those are fighting words,” Kuroo teased.

Kenma kissed him, wrapping his hands in Kuroo’s collar and pulling him down where Kuroo was more than happy to oblige.

There weren't fireworks, nothing loud and exploding but Kuroo felt like his ears were ringing anyway. Instead, it just felt like a puzzle piece slipping into place like it was always supposed to be there. The kind where time went fuzzy around them and everything seemed to melt away.

Kuroo liked that better.

  
  
  
  
  
  


\-------

A minute or hours later, there was the sound of a van pulling in on the gravel road and Kuroo and Kenma were still leaning against each other, talking quietly.

“Hey, dork,” Oikawa called. “You didn’t even start getting down the luggage, did you?”

“Hush,” Suga whacked Oikawa’s arm, “I think he’s finally getting somewhere.”

Kenma pulled away, just enough to meet Kuroo’s eyes. “Your friends are here.”

“I don’t even know those people,” Kuroo assured.

“KUROO, DID YOUR PICKUP LINES WORK,” Bokuto yelled.

Neither Kuroo or Kenma looked away

“No, those are definitely your friends,” Kenma said.

“Really,” Kuroo said, “I’ve never had friends in my life. I’m a hermit.”

Iwaizumi honked the horn.

“If we go back to kissing, they’ll probably leave eventually,” Kuroo suggested.

Kenma snorted, shoving him away before heading back in the manor. “Go talk to them. I’ll still be here.”

“Fine,” Kuroo agreed and walked up to the van to lean in the window. “Hey, guys,  _ wow,  _ didn’t think you’d be back so quick.”

“It’s been four hours,” Iwaizumi said.

“Really rushed it, didn’t you,” Kuroo said blithely.

Bokuto bounced up in his seat, eagerly. “So, did it work out with Kenma?”

Kuroo smirked, holding up the numbers. “Told you I’m irresistible.”

“Like a fungus,” Oikawa tsked. “That poor soul.”

Kuroo stuck out his tongue. “What are you even doing?”

“Navigating,” Oikawa said shortly.

“To where,” Iwaizumi asked.

“Anywhere.” Oikawa already had the map back out in front of him. “You know, I think if we take this shortcut, we can still get to the campgrounds by night.”

“What kind of shortcut,” Suga asked, already wary.

“The fun kind!”

The entire group exchanged a look.

“Well,” Iwaizumi said, shaking his head even as a smile started to tug through helplessly, “I guess we better get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your support, guys, you rock! Hope your Halloween is the spooky kind of fun.
> 
> Always feel free to find me on Tumblr: https://greycappedjester.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> And now for a commercial break....
> 
> Kidding, next chapter should be up within the next two weeks. Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> Always feel free to find me on tumblr: https://greycappedjester.tumblr.com/


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